Eleven Paper Girls
by Rain77
Summary: Forced to move, forced to be in a place she doesn't want to be, Terri is miserable.  All she wants is to be happy again.  A mysterious book offers her that hapiness, but what price will she have to pay?
1. Chapter 1

Eleven Paper Girls

To Rosie: Your images are beautiful (and sometimes macabre) inspiration.

Rosie's photograph can be found flickr . com

/photos/rosie_hardy

/2585846463/

-1-

When Terri first walked into the attic, the first sensation she felt was cold. It was kind of creepy – being that it was in the height of summer – but the sensation was there all the same. Outside she could hear the buzz of traffic speeding along the San Pedro freeway. But in the attic, the sounds were muted, the sensation of cold almost all consuming. Her breath seemed to frost the air.

This house was the last in the cul-de-sac, a restoration house, her mother called it. But to her, restoration really meant old. Not that an old house seemed to bother anybody. For several days now, her mother had been busy booking reservations for "a charming Bed and Breakfast overlooking the cliffs of Palos Verdes." Hmph. She'd been busy all right. Too busy for Terri.

Her dad too was too busy. He was _finally_ writing that great American novel he'd been meaning to.

She remembered the day they'd decided that dad was going to be a writer and mom would run her bed and breakfast. It was right after Gram's funeral. Her parents had shed tears, but they hadn't really been too sad. Gram and her dad were "estranged" and when they had come into some money when Gram had died, her parents decided to take a few years off and work on "their dreams."

Terri kicked at an unpacked box in the corner of the attic angrily. Yeah, their dreams. But what about hers? Moving in the middle of the school year, especially senior year, had been devastating. She had already made plans. Her picture was already in the yearbook! And now, now no one would remember her by the time Spring Break came.

Outside the late California sun shone onto the blue ocean and suddenly she missed cold, rainy Seattle. It was damp, but it was home.

Sighing, she sat down on one of the moving boxes. There were still a bunch of them unpacked in the attic, mostly raingear and boots. Her mother had decided that those boxes would be the last to be unpacked. She had smiled brightly at the moving men and laughed when she asked them to take the boxes up to the attic. "Rain? Here? I doubt we'll even see the rain in Southern California."

She tore off a strip of tape holding the box flaps together. Inside, her bright red rain slicker bloomed. She almost cried with the pain of missing _home. _The slicker was new. She had bought it over the Christmas break intending to wear it when she came back for Spring semester. She had just gotten to know Josh over Thanksgiving. He was one of the most athletic boys at Washington High. He was also painfully gorgeous. He had been her lab partner in biology, his worst subject and he had asked for help in the new semester. Red was his favorite color. Again, the heat of righteous anger hit her. How dare they? Her parents hadn't even asked if she wanted to move.

Outside, the whirr of a lawnmower cut through the sounds of muted traffic. Uninterested, she leaned over the side of the box to peek out the only window that let in light. The window was pretty high and she could barely see out. In the afternoon light, a boy about her age was mowing the lawn. His dark hair was slicked back with sweat and he wore a shirt with the arms cut out. He was whistling. She couldn't hear him, but she could see his cheeks puffing out. Curious, she stood stepped on the box. It rocked unsteadily under her, the rain slickers and boots shifting underfoot. The boy was carefully guiding the lawnmower from one side of the large expansive lawn to the other. He called out something to someone unseen and then he laughed. She leaned closer, trying to see who was just around the corner. As he turned his face up to the sun, she caught his eye and he smiled unreservedly at her. Shocked, she slipped off the box and landed in a thud on the dusty ground.

When she finally scrambled up and got over her embarrassment, the sound of the lawnmower had moved away and outside, the boy was gone, only the clean shaven path of grass left in its wake.


	2. Chapter 2

Eleven Paper Girls

-2-

Terri spent the last remaining hours of light hiding in the attic. Some part of her was hoping the boy would come back, but another part of her was hoping he wouldn't. That part of her wanted to die of embarrassment.

School would be an embarrassment too. She could already feel it. She didn't fit in with these people in Southern California. They were all burnished bronze skin and surfer tans. Not her. She had fit into Seattle perfectly. She could hide her red hair and pale skin in large jackets, in hoodies, in anything she could hide in. Her freckles and imperfect skin could be disguised by makeup and scarves. Not here in Southern California. Her makeup ran with sweat and made her break out the first day. Her hair frizzed up. She couldn't hide in any of her old clothes.

They'd nicknamed her Strawberry Shortcake. It had meant to be hurtful, but she had worn the name with pride. And when Josh had asked her for help, she'd exulted in the looks of derision that the popular kids had steered her way. It didn't matter. In terms of brains, she'd been untouchable. It was her only protection from the others. It didn't protect her heart, but Josh had been sincere in asking for help. She had been hoping that finally, finally in her senior year, she would have someone to call a friend. Now she would never know.

Sulking again, she decided to go downstairs. She could hear her mother calling about something, probably dinner. Ever since they'd arrived here, her mother had insisted on having dinners together – "Like a family, again," her mom had said brightly. – but it hadn't worked out the way they all had thought. Terri had sulked through most of the week's dinner and her father had distractedly been writing notes in a notepad. Her mother too, despite her insistence on dinner, had been stuck to her phone, feeling the need to have it close by in case someone called to reserve or ask for a job.

With heavy feet, she made her way to the trapdoor of the attic, when something caught her eye. The light from the window must have been catching on something because out of one of the attic's dark corners was a golden glow.

Terri took apart the boxes and junk that crowded around the glow and saw what it was that had shined so brightly. A mirror had reflected the light onto a very shiny, very beautiful book. It was made out of white, tooled leather. Scrolling ran up and down its sides and the pages were edged with a golden sheen. It was titled, "The Book of Happiness."

Terri couldn't help the smirk that came to her mouth. _Riiiiight._ As if there was such a thing, such a secret to happiness that reading a book could solve. Stupid self-help manuals. But it was such a pretty book nevertheless. It had a clasp, like a diary, but there was no lock. It clicked open easily and when she turned to the first page she gasped.

It was like an illuminated manuscript. She'd seen some of those in museums, but this book was better. It was truly beautiful. The colors were swirling and seemed almost alive. She saw that it was divided into sections, like different chapters. After the title page, the chapters were each fronted by a glowing picture of a girl. They were all of varying ages, but none seemed to be older than herself. There were eleven in total; eleven paper girls.

She scanned through the first chapter. It was about a girl named Marie, who lived in France. She seemed to have been a peasant even though, when Terri flipped back to her picture, she looked like a princess. She was just getting into the story when her mother called loudly from just below the attic trapdoor.

"Fine!" she called back, none too happily. She flipped yearningly through the rest of the pages. The pictures were all so happy, all so gorgeous. Oh, how she wished she were that happy and that gorgeous. How beautiful all the girls were! She came to the last girl and turned the page. Curiously there were no more pictures. The rest of the book was blank.

She ran her fingers over the blank page. If only she were like those girls: pretty, confident, perfect. With a frightened yelp, she threw the book away from her. It landed like a thud in front of her. Closed, it was no longer glowing, the light outside was fading and throwing the attic into darkness.

Strange, she swore the texture of the paper beneath her finger had changed. It had suddenly felt cold, like the texture of chicken meat straight from the fridge. And it had felt like something else, it had felt like it had curled around her finger.

Freaked out, she scooted from the book and practically fell out of the attic.

Author's Note: If anyone is still following me in the ether, here is where I'm in the process of moving to

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End file.
